


Racing a Glader

by VickeyStar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Coach is surprised, Fem!Stiles - Freeform, Newt is a cocky lil shit, Racing, Stiles is Terra, Stiles isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 13:33:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7716670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickeyStar/pseuds/VickeyStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Minho race, in front of the entire lacrosse team, the pack, and Coach Finstock. Shenanigans are a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Racing a Glader

**Author's Note:**

> I was recently made aware that this work is similar to another work, Run a Race by Capn_KayReaper, and I read it and will admit that we had similar ideas. But, my ideas were my own.   
> ~SleevesCakes/VickeyStar

“Come on!” Minho exclaimed, running on the track and slowing down to jog beside Stiles. She was pretending to be slow, so ‘Stiles’ could take time to get faster, instead of actually showing off her real speed. “Let’s race!”

She smiled, noting Newt sitting with the other girls of the pack, watching them.

“I can’t, Min. You know that.” She replied, acting out of breath.

“Three laps, please!” he pleaded with her, jogging backwards to watch her response. “I’ve been waiting for the competition! Even the werewolves don’t put up a good challenge!”

That was true, Minho and Newt managed to beat everyone from the pack in a race.  
She pursed her lips. “I want Newt’s opinion.” She stated, and they made their way to their friend, who was meeting them halfway.  
“Minho wants a race. Talk him out of it?” She asked, looking hopeful. Newt laughed. “Sorry, Ter. I agree with him. You, my friend, need to run.”

Coach noticed them talking and took a moment to see his best player and his moderately good player (she was better than Greenberg) hanging out and him improving her skills, and he walked over to them.

“Asses on the field, Stilinski and Greene.” He said when he reached the three.

“Three laps, please, Stiles?” Minho begged the girl. Newt nodded along with him.

“One.” She offered.

“Three.” Newt challenged.

“Two.” She compromised, and Coach was filled with pride.

“Three!” Minho exclaimed, walking off with her towards the field.

“Agree to two laps, or you’re not getting your damn race, Min!” The girl exclaimed, and they started jogging for a warmup lap.

“Hey, Isaacs,” Coach got Newt’s attention. “Does it look like Stilinski’s holding back to you?”  
Newt grinned at him. “I wouldn’t know, Coach.” The blond walked away, heading back to the girls of the pack.

Coach didn’t believe him.

Everyone out there stopped what they were doing to watch the race between Stiles and Minho. They saw the two grin in anticipation.

Minho watched as the other students and staff watched them get ready for the race. He grinned. The point of this was to show that Stiles was fast, and he hated it when the other players of the team dissed her skills.

“Three… Two… One… Go!” He shouted, and they were off.

Stiles easily kept pace with Minho, even going past him at some points to make him push himself. They both knew she could easily surpass him and win, but she wanted him to have a challenge, not a total disappointment when he lost. They finished the first lap, and with a nod from Minho, Stiles sprinted at her full speed. She finished the race five seconds before Minho, and ran over to Newt, stopping when she saw Coach, looking like a fish out of water.

The other two gladers ran out to her, and she noticed the entirety of the people outside staring at her. She blushed.

That seemed to snap Coach out of it. “Everybody back to work!” He shouted, then walked over to the three teens.

“Stilinski, what the hell was that?” He asked, she shrugged.  
“Luck?” She suggested, then the three walked away, because practice ended for the day. They left Coach standing there, gaping.

edn


End file.
